The Sound of My Master's Voice
by RavensWood
Summary: Skips between Jackson's past and a year to two years post RE. No one is who they seem when an assassin from Jackson's past is hired to take out him out. The assassin has plans that not only involve Jackson but Lisa as well. Rating just in case. Please R
1. Chapter 1

**The Sound of My Master's Voice**

**By: RavensWood**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Red Eye or any of the original characters from it. I do own my original characters though, a slightly broken down car, some CDs and a collection of funny t-shirts. Please, don't sue me. The car and CDs are NOT worth it and I am quite fond of my funny t-shirt collection and would be quite put out if I were to lose them.

**Author's Note:** I have been working out where I want this story to go for a while now. I'm not sure yet if it will be a Lisa/Jackson romance story or not. The first few chapters will seem somewhat disconnected at first but I need them to be for later plot reveals and twists. At this point I'm aiming for 15 chapters but depending on where the story goes as I write it that may change.

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**Chapter One: Melted Chocolate and Shattered Ice**

The girl huddled in the corner where her 'father' had thrown her. She didn't curl up into a ball nor did she hug her knees to her chest like most her age, or older for that matter, may have done. She merely sat there, her legs splayed out on the floor in front of her. The clothes on her back hadn't been washed in four days, the shorts that had once been pants were so tight she couldn't comfortably fasten the top button anymore, and the boy's sneakers on her feet, when she first received them her toes had more than enough wiggle room, now crunched her toes even without socks.

The commotion downstairs told her that things were not going to plan. Just as well. Maybe whoever it was would come up and put her out of her misery. Her hope was short-lived as her father burst through the door.

"Get yer ass up! We're leaving…NOW!" He yelled as he went to the locked cabinet not three feet from her. He began shoving thick bundles of money into a small, gray duffle bag. She lifted herself from the floor noticing that the blood that had earlier flown from her busted lip was now dry and flaking from her chin. She just knew that there would be a huge bloodstain around the collar of her shirt. Just then, the door burst open a second time and a tall, burly man stepped into the room. The gun in his hand rose to point at her father's head. Before she knew what had happened her father swooped her off the floor and held her in front of himself. The man had halfway crossed the distance of the room but stopped as he caught her eyes. The girl saw his eyes widen at the sight of her.

She figured that it was just her neglected state that shocked him, but before she could stop it a gasp escaped her lips as her sight locked on his eyes. They filled her field of vision entirely and threatened to pull her down toward their fathomless bottoms. Blue. The most clear, icy blue eyes she'd ever seen stared back at her, emotions she couldn't identify floated across those crystalline orbs.

She felt her father squirm behind her and saw, out of the corner of her eye, as his gun came flying out past her. What happened next was perceived by the girl in slow motion. The gun came out and thundered out a blast. The blue eyed man was quick for such a large person and narrowly avoided the shot. As he ducked away he grabbed a chair by the leg and launched it at her. She raised her arms and covered her turned head. A pain shot through her left leg as the chair came in contact with her ankle. However, her father took the fuller force of the chair and released her as he fell forward. Pain exploded along the right side of her body as she hit the floor.

The girl felt herself being dragged across the floor. She opened her eyes to a silver twinkle. This was it, her moment of freedom. The silver gleamed brightly as it lowered rapidly. She clenched her eyes tightly shut. A sickening, wet thump made its way to her ears. She opened her eyes to see the blue eyed man pulling a very large knife from her father's chest. The man wiped the blade off on the fallen man's shirt and put it away. She couldn't help the flood of joy that flowed through her as she saw the light go out of his eyes as a dark pool of blood formed around him on the floor taking his life with it. Without a second thought, the girl grabbed the duffle bag from where it had fallen beside her. The girl could no longer think of him as her father now that he was dead. It was a curious feeling but the girl was nearly amazed at the total lack of emotion that she felt, other than relief, at the man's passing.

The blue eyed man turned his gaze to her. The girl was fascinated by this man. The way he moved, it was almost graceful. He reached out a hand to her. Though her life experience with men had taught her otherwise, she did not shrink away from him. Something in the arctic depths of his eyes made her go against her better judgment. The man pulled her up to his side as he stood. He held her up in the crook of his arm as he picked his gun up from off the floor where he had previously abandoned it. He stalked through the place, back down the stairs, and outside where he deposited her onto the passenger's seat of a large black sedan. The car pulled away at an almost leisurely pace.

"So, what's your name kid?" The man asked breaking the silence between the two.

"I don't have a name," the girl said in a scratchy voice, not used to being used.

"You don't have a name? Surely that monster called you something," the man said in a very conversational voice. "Was that asshole your father?"

"He made me if that's what you mean," the girl responded flatly. She felt no need to lie to the man. If he intended to kill her, so be it. If he planned on doing other things to her, well, what could he do to her that hadn't already been done?

"How old are you? Do you know?"

"I'm eight years old," the girl responded, eyes forward.

"You know how old you are but you don't know your name? How is that possible?" The man further prodded.

"My mother died having me. He never let me forget that," was the girl's sullen response. Her left hand absently went up to touch her left shoulder. Before she could catch herself the man saw and reached out to pull down the collar of her oversized shirt. A large jagged scar adorned her skin from collarbone to several inches down her arm.

"Did he do that to you?" The man asked in a flat, cold tone though his eyes blazed with fury. The girl pulled her shirt back up.

"It was my eighth birthday present," she responded. A single tear fell from her chocolate colored eye and made its way down her cheek. She flinched as his hand came up to her face. She gazed at him with wide eyes as he wiped the tear away with a calloused thumb. They had pulled into a hotel parking lot.

"Don't be afraid, you won't be receiving anymore of those types of gifts," the man said, his eyes warming as he brushed brown hair in much need of washing back from her face.

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The girl was not used to such treatment. After they had arrived at the hotel the night before the man introduced himself…

"_Oh, by the way, the name's Edward," he said, extending a hand to her. "Now, we need something to call you…" After a brief pause he said, "AnnaBella." _

"_AnnaBella," the girl repeated, tasting the name on her lips. She took his outstretched hand. "Hello, my name is AnnaBella." The man smiled. _

"_We'll just call you Anna for now." _

Anna sat on the bed as Edward gathered the things he'd purchased for her into a bright pink and purple backpack. After giving her a name he'd told her to take a shower but told her not to put the same dirty clothes back on. She had exited the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find Edward sitting on the edge of the bed with two grocery bags. He had gone to a convenience store two blocks down and had gotten dinner and a long tee shirt and a pair of flip-flops. He also bought a hairbrush, some hair barrettes, and a little heart shaped silver necklace.

"_In the morning we'll go down to that shopping mall and get you something more proper to wear. They didn't have regular shoes or underwear or stuff at that store," Edward told her. "But this shirt's long enough for now." _

Sure enough, it had come down to her knees. Edward had fixed a black neck tie around her waist to cinch the shirt close to her body making it look like one of those long shirts that are really dresses. True to his word he took her to the shopping mall the next morning where he bought her two pairs of jeans, a skirt, a jean jacket, three shirts with pictures of butterflies and rainbows and things of that sort on the fronts, a pair of sneakers, a pair of black paten leather Mary Jane shoes, socks, as well as underpants and undershirts.

He had even let her sleep on the bed while he slept on the floor.

"Let's go," Edward spoke breaking Anna out of her little reverie.

Together they drove until they came to a bus station. Edward took both their bags and walked up to the ticket counter with Anna in tow.

"May I help you sir?" The overly cheerful girl behind the counter asked.

"Yes, um, I'm on the 2:15 service to Chicago. But at the last minute the wife decided to send our daughter back with me," Edward began with a gleaming smile. "Here visiting my wife's sick mother. Is there any way you could help me out with this…Angela," Edward asked after taking a second to eye the girl's name badge. Even Anna was impressed with the charm that Edward could muster at the drop of a hat and wasn't surprised to see that Angela was blushing.

"I'll see what I can do for you…uh?"

"Please call me Charlie. The ticket is under the name Charles Underwood," Edward told the young woman as he handed her his ticket.

"Okay," the woman gushed as Edward gave her his most devastating smile yet. "Just give me a minute to see, Charlie." She turned to busily look in her log book and began to tap a few keys on the computer. At the sidelong look that Anna gave him, Edward bent down to her level.

"What is it?"

"Charlie?" She questioned. Edward chuckled.

"Just an alias, uh, a made up name," Edward replied.

"I know what alias means," Anna said softly.

"Oh, okay. Anyway, I can't just go flinging my real name around. It'd be bad for business," Edward whispered.

"And what business is that?" Anna questioned.

"We'll talk about that later," Edward answered in a hushed tone. Anna knew the subject was, for now, over. Just then Angela reemerged with tickets in hand.

"Good news, Charlie. I've managed to find you two spots on the 2:45 to Chicago arriving at 2:30 a.m. You'll have to change buses in Cleveland after an hour layover, if that's okay?"

"That would be perfect, Angela. How much extra is it going to be?"

"With the change and the extra ticket that comes out to forty-two, fifty-seven. She is under twelve years old I take it," Angela said as she smiled at Anna.

"Yes, ma'am," Anna replied with a smile of her own.

"Such good manners," Angela beamed. "You have a good trip…uh?"

"Christina," Anna said softly. "Christina Underwood."

"Well, you have a good trip, Christina Underwood. And you too, Charlie."

"Thank you Angela, for all your help," Edward said as he took the young woman's hand and gently kissed the back of it.

"Oh…it was my pleasure," Angela replied breathlessly as she flushed a deep pink.

As the two turned to sit in the lobby of the small bus station Edward turned to Anna.

"Christina?" He asked softly. Anna turned her gaze to Edward.

"Well, I can't just go flinging my 'real' name around," was her sarcastic reply. Edward chuckled softly.

"Touché," he conceded.

Anna looked around the bus station. There were few people around. After a few minutes an old man came in and sat down two seats away from Anna. He had a newspaper tucked under his arm which he pulled out and started to read. Anna gazed over at the pictures on the front page. Nothing about what had happened to her father. Either it hadn't been discovered yet or no one really cared what had happened to a few low-level thugs in a back water town. Anna figured the second was probably more likely. The old man saw Anna looking at the newspaper and smiled. He ruffled through the pages and handed Anna a page. It was the comics section.

"There you go sweetie," the man said. "I reckon you'd get more enjoyment out of these than me."

"Thank you," Anna said softly. Edward smiled at the man. Over the intercom Anna and Edward heard the announcement for their bus. As they loaded their luggage Anna saw the date on the newspaper. May 12, 1985.

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Anna was sound asleep when Edward woke her up. Together, they caught a cab. They rode in silence through the dark streets. When the cab finally stopped they were in front of a two story house with green paint and a black slanted roof. Edward paid the driver and lugged their luggage up the stairs. He pulled out a key and opened the front door. The inside was very clean, spotless even compared to what Anna was used to living in.

"Wait here," Edward told her before he vanished up the stairs. Anna was half asleep on her feet when Edward came back downstairs with a thin, lanky boy following him.

"Take her things downstairs," Edward told the boy whose eyes were downcast. With a thin, pale hand the boy reached out to grab her bags from her. Even in the darkness, Anna saw the dark bruises that adorned the boys arm. Edward then took Anna by the shoulder and led her toward the back of the house. The boy opened a door and Anna saw a staircase leading down to the basement. She followed Edward and the boy down.

"You'll be staying down here for a few days. I have things that I have to get in order before you can see her," Edward told Anna.

"Before I see who?"

"Carol…my wife."

"And who is this?" Anna asked as she pointed to the boy. He stood there barefoot in an oversized grubby white tee shirt and black shorts. As Edward began to speak it was as though time slowed down to barely a crawl. The boy raised his head and captured Anna's eyes. Anna's breath hitched in her throat. If she thought Edward's eyes were amazing then she didn't have words to describe what this boy's eyes were.

"Anna, this is my son, Jackson."


	2. Old Wounds, Fresh Scars

**Chapter Two: Old Wounds, Fresh Scars**

The assassin glared at the ringing cell phone on the nightstand. The noisy little device had broken a rare and deep sleep. The assassin's left hand hovered over the phone for a moment thinking over the possibility of not answering it.

"This had better be good," came a voice thick from sleep. Considering how much leniency the company had recently shown, the assassin thought it best not to avoid the call.

"Sanders you little shit!" Came the jovial voice of the boss. "Were you asleep?" He asked in a sing-song voice.

"It's two-thirty in the morning!"

"Oh, really," Carter said melodramatically. "It would appear that I forgot about the time difference." The bastard was actually enjoying this!

"What do you want Carter?"

"Just seeing when my top assassin was coming back," came Carter's syrupy voice.

"I told you, I'm taking off after this…job," Sanders replied bringing a pale hand over tired eyes.

"What job? I never told you to go after the Reisert girl," Carter said warily.

"You know why I'm doing this," said Sanders in a warning tone.

"Look…I know what Rippner was to you, but I also know how he screwed you over, too."

"You know nothing!" Spat Sanders. After taking a deep breath the assassin calmed down. "Look, I need to do this. Jackson…he was the best. I need to know what it is about this girl that brought him down."

After a long pause, Carter finally spoke.

"Well, I understand that. But I also understand that Jackson **was** the best. I've always hoped that you would take up the manager role again. You were so good at it before all that…unpleasantness." Carter paused as though giving his words time to sink in, and then he spoke again.

"Do you think you have one more job in you?" He asked softly.

"When do you need it done by?" The assassin knew it had to be high paying and possibly very high profile for Carter to ask.

"No time limit," Carter replied. Something in the smug undertone of Carter's voice set off alarms in both Sanders' mind and stomach.

"What's the job?"

"You won't even have to leave the Reisert girl. The job is in Miami," Carter countered.

"What is the job!" Sanders was quickly losing patience.

"Rippner," came Carter's simple reply. The color drained from Sanders' face. The assassin coughed roughly.

"You okay there Slick?" Carter asked almost nonchalantly.

"Fuck you," Sanders managed to get out.

"Always the charmer," Carter chortled.

"What about Rippner?"

"I need him eliminated," Carter replied flatly.

"And you're just deciding this now? It's been over a year."

"I know how long it has been Sanders. I…regret that Jack couldn't be salvaged but he's had this long and he's still not recovered from his injuries."

"He was shot twice and stabbed in the throat and the leg. How dare he take longer than a couple of weeks," came Sanders' bitter reply.

"You were shot…twice…in the back and you were back on the job in five months," Carter said as a matter-of-factly.

"That was different," protested Sanders, but only weakly.

"Yeah, it would take a silver stake, some Holy Water, and a crucifix to put you down," Carter joked.

"Hah-hah…so, what's the job pay?"

"I didn't think you'd take it. At least, not so quickly," the boss said with notable shock.

"What does it pay?" Sanders repeated slowly.

"A hundred thousand."

"You want me to take out your top manager for a measly hundred thousand?"

"A hundred and fifty."

"I'm hanging up."

"Fine," Carter replied begrudgingly. "Two hundred fifty."

"The price is half a mill," Sanders corrected. Carter audibly choked on the other end.

"You are out of your fucking mind!"

"Then you are out an assassin," Sanders said smoothly.

"I can find someone else," Carter warned.

"I doubt that. Besides, even if someone else wanted it could any of them do it the way I could?"

After a long pause Carter replied.

"Fine, half a mill it is. But you had better earn it!"

"I will. You know the drill. After I get confirmation that the money has been deposited into my account I start the job."

"You know that you're the only one I do this for right? Even Jack didn't receive payment until after the job was complete," Carter said irritated.

"I know," Sanders said smugly. "After this, I'm gone. **If** I come back, it will be at my discretion."

"That is the deal, huh? You're actually going to leave?"

"Yes."

"I know you Sanders. You're too good at what you do. There's no way that you could just leave this all behind. The white picket fence, two point four children, and a minivan in the driveway just don't suit you."

"Then I guess I'll just have to make it a black iron gate with two Siberian huskies and an Impala in the driveway. Does that suit me better?" Sanders asked.

"That's a little better," Carter laughed. "But I still can't see you being a regular citizen. After watching you grow into the…force of nature you are today, it seems impossible for you to leave."

"I think all the loyal service I've provided for the last ten years has earned it."

"Yes, you always were a good dog. How did Jack used to say it…you only respond to the sound of your master's voice."

"And besides Rippner," Sanders ignored Carter's attempt at being cute, "I've been your biggest money maker."

"And for that, I'm sorry to see you go," Carter said truthfully.

"Somehow, I think that this is not the last time you'll be hearing my voice." That said Sanders clicked the cell phone closed.

Sanders lay in bed for a few minutes longer, fighting the place and time where memories threatened to go. In an effort to curb the thoughts Sanders roughly pushed the short, dark brown hair with red streaks back. Sanders hated the red streaks that were left over from the last job and planned on dying back to its original color that morning. Unable to find sleep again, the assassin sat up in bed and swung toned legs over the side of the bed.

"Take out Jackson…" Sanders said softly. Gentle laughter filled the room. The assassin fell back onto the tangle of bedclothes, sighing loudly. One single memory broke through Sanders defenses taking the assassin back to a place that shouldn't be revisited…

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"_**Sanders!"** Rippner's harsh voice broke through the earpiece. **"Move your ass!"**_

"_I'm trying," Sanders whispered roughly. "It's a lot harder going back up than it was coming down!" _

_The ventilation shaft was cramped and tight. Sanders had no trouble sliding down but going back up, on the other hand, posed a bigger problem. The rope was beginning to burn the palms of the assassin's hands. The opening of the shaft was still a good ten feet above Sanders head. If not for the injury two months ago Sanders would have already been out. The strain to the right bicep was almost unbearable. _

"_**We're working on a time budget here,"** Jackson voiced impatiently. _

"_Shove off! I'm going as fast as I can!"_

_The time budget being the unforeseen circumstance of a guard not being completely incapacitated by the bullet Sanders had put in his back. He had tripped the alarm but not before Sanders had already taken out the target. Jackson waited in a parked car a few blocks down from the office complex. Sanders broke through the opening to the roof and was greeted by the dark sky. Well, as dark as the sky got in a big city like New York. The grappling hook waited where Sanders had left it. Quickly, the assassin disconnected the hooking mechanism and reloaded it. Shooting at a smaller building across the side street, a church steeple atop a very flat section of roof, Sanders hooked it onto the harness and prepared to jump off the ledge of the office roof. _

"_Stop right there!" A rough voice behind the assassin yelled out. "Put you hands up and turn around asshole!" _

_Sanders always had an ace in the hole. Glancing over a shoulder to see two guards with guns raised. Two would be slightly difficult but not impossible. _

"_I said turn around. NOW!" _

_Sanders reached into the pouch attached to the chest and produced two throwing knives. _

"_Turn around or we start shooting." _

_Sanders quickly tucked the weapons into the bindings around both wrists. _

"_Okay, okay, I'm tuning now," the assassin replied holding up both hands. _

"_**Sanders? What the fuck is going on!"** Was Jackson's fuming voice. _

"_Nn," Sanders muttered in response. _

"_Take off the mask shithead!" The younger guard ordered. Sanders obliged. The mask came down and both guards visibly relaxed. Sanders saw the moment to strike. The blades came out and were launched at the two men. The younger guard went down hard. As Sanders turned and jumped the older guard was able to get up. He stumbled but was able to get three shots off, two of which hit the assassin in the back. _

_Sanders made it to the other building but was unable to slow down. The assassin hit the cement wall with thunderous force. Somehow, Sanders was able to unbuckle the harness and fell unceremoniously to the gravel of the roof. _

"_**Sanders! Sanders!"** Jackson shouted over the earpiece. **"Dammit Alex, talk to me!"** Jackson screamed. _

"_Jackie-boy," was the feeble reply before darkness enveloped the assassin. _

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Sanders absently rubbed a shoulder. The crash had dislocated it, broken two ribs as well as the left ankle in three places. Luckily, Alex Sanders had avoided any head trauma.

Unable to reclaim sleep, Alex got up and went to take a shower. As the hot water slid down the lengths of Alex's lean muscled back, over bullet wounds long since healed, details of the job ahead began to work themselves together. The best part was that the boss gave no time limit so Sanders would be able to plan out everything to a tee. Lisa could be monitored, Jackson could be dealt with, and Alex Sanders could finally have the long sought after dream…A normal life.


	3. Anniversaries and Friendships

**Chapter 3: Anniversaries and Friendships**

"Thank you for choosing the Lux Atlantic. My name is Amanda and if there's anything else I can help you with, please, don't hesitate to ask," Amanda Crestwood beamed at the newly arrived couple, an elderly man and woman from Ohio.

"Why thank you dear," the woman said warmly. "She's so sweet. Isn't she so sweet honey?"

"Yes she is a very sweet girl," the man replied with a broad smile.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," Amanda said cheerfully as the couple began to walk in the direction of the elevators.

"Man-dy?" Came the singsong voice of Lisa Reisert.

"Hi Lisa," Mandy replied. "When did you get here?"

"About a half hour ago. Um…can you guess what today is?" Lisa asked with a smile and slight tilt of her head.

"Uh, Tuesday?" Mandy replied unsurely.

"No," Lisa shook her head, her smile broadening.

"Uh, May 9, 2007?" Mandy offered. Lisa smiled wide.

"Yes it is. And do you know why today is important?"

Mandy shook her head causing straight, medium length, medium brown hair to swish back and forth revealing blond highlights throughout its length.

"What happened six months ago this very day?" Lisa asked in hopes of jogging the girl's memory. Mandy looked confused for a moment but then realization dawned on her face, a grin spreading broadly across her features.

"November 9, 2006…that was my first day as a Lux Atlantic employee!" Mandy nearly squealed. At the looks a woman near the front doors Mandy calmed down but her gray eyes shone merrily as she smoothed down the front of the pale green cardigan she wore over the white uniform dress.

"Yes," Lisa confirmed with mirth apparent in her voice. "You're on till two right?"

"Yes," Mandy replied with a nod of her head.

"Okay…so, sometime today, before the end of your shift, we'll have to go over your six month review."

"Oh…sixth month review…yikes," Mandy said while making a face. Lisa giggled.

"Don't worry…I can tell you it's not bad," Lisa playfully pushed Mandy's arm.

"Excuse me," a gentleman in a three-piece suit said as he walked up to the counter.

"Yes, may I help you?" Mandy asked. Lisa turned to face the man and visibly stumbled back, bumping into Mandy.

"Oh my…are you alright?" The young, blue-eyed man asked.

"Fine…I'm fine," Lisa answered quickly. "How can I help you?"

"I'm late for a meeting. I need to know where…" the man pulled out a piece of paper. "Ah, I need to go to Conference Room B, the Twilight Crystal Room. Where is that exactly?"

"Oh, the computer analyst conference," Mandy replied. "You are in luck! They called down here not ten minutes ago. Technical problems. If I take you up in the employee elevator you should make it on time."

"What about my suitcase?" The young man asked.

"Are you staying here at the Lux Atlantic?" Lisa questioned.

"Yes, I am. Here is my confirmation letter," he said handing a paper to Lisa. She eyed it quickly.

"Alright Mr. Robinson. I'll get you checked in. If you just leave your suitcase here I'll have one of the bellhops take it up to your room. Just come back up here when you get a chance for your room key."

"Thanks so much," Mr. Robinson said in a relieved voice. "How long do we have to get up there?" He asked Mandy.

"Our tech guy said the problem would take about fifteen to twenty minutes to fix so if we hurry you should just make it. If you'll follow me Mr. Robinson."

As the duo walked toward the employee elevator Lisa heard the man speak.

"Please," he said. "Call me Jack."

Lisa spun around so fast she knocked over the basket of complimentary mints on the counter. The mints scattered across the counter and fell to the floor in a shower of red and white. Lisa looked up to see Mandy stop but quickly waved her to keep going. One of the other front desk girls saw Lisa begin to pick up the peppermints and rushed over to help her.

"Miss Reisert, what happened?" The blonde girl asked as she stooped down to help Lisa.

"Nothing, Rachel. I was just being clumsy," Lisa half laughed. When they were finished Lisa handed Rachel the paper Jack Robinson had given her.

"Here…can you check this guest in for me? I have some things to do in my office."

"Sure thing Miss Reisert," Rachel replied.

"Rachel, please, call me Lisa," Lisa told the girl. Rachel cast her brown eyes toward the floor.

"Sorry Miss…Lisa. Its just…" she trailed off.

"Its just what?" Lisa questioned softly.

"Well…you're older than I am and growing up my father was very strict about that sort of thing. You know, calling adults by Mister, Missus, or Miss whatever. Now that I'm an adult it almost seems silly but it stuck."

"I understand…childhood habit, hard to break," Lisa replied.

"Exactly," Rachel breathed, relieved. "I'll just check this guest in." She turned and used the computer screen in front her instead of the one she had come from.

"Oh, Rachel," Lisa turned to face the girl. "This is Robinson's luggage right here…Oh my!" Lisa noticed a long, faint scar on Rachel's left shoulder coming out from the edge of her white dress uniform.

"What…" Rachel asked before noticing where Lisa was looking. "Oh, that."

"How…how did it happen?" Lisa asked, eyes wide.

"It was a long time ago…a childhood accident," Rachel replied softly.

"Sorry," Lisa's face twisted slightly. "I didn't mean to point it out. I just turned so quickly and it was right there.

"It's okay Lisa," Rachel assured. "It was a long time ago. Most of the time I don't even see it."

"Okay…Mr. Robinson's luggage, right here. I'll be in my office."

Once Lisa was safely in her office with the door locked she breathed deeply. The man in the lobby had caught her off guard. The blue eyes and the suit had been painful reminders of a certain someone she preferred not to remember.

Jackson Rippner.

Even though Mr. Robinson had black, short-cropped hair and his blue eyes were more steely gray than ice blue they still evoked mixed feelings in Lisa. Hell, his initials were even the same, J.R. Lately all tallish, thin men in suits freaked her out. And men with blue eyes were especially hard for her to deal with.

It had taken a while but Lisa had begun to put the events of the red eye flight behind her. She had even started dating again. Well, she had dated on and off anyway. Looking back on her choices is men Lisa was confronted with two blatantly obvious facts. First, she never dated men with blue eyes. On occasion, blue-eyed men had asked her out but she never accepted the dates. All she had accepted were either brown or green eyed. Even her closest friends now had all other color eyes but blue.

The second, and definitely more painful, thing to admit was the fact that in some way all the men she had dated were always measured against Jackson. And all come up totally and utterly short. They all lacked that spark that Jackson had. There was just something about him, when he helped her in line, when they sat for drinks at the Tex Mex, when they spoke before takeoff Jackson had sparked something in Lisa that she thought had been killed on the ground of that parking lot those long years ago. Even the Jackson that had threatened her…there was something oddly comforting in him, something in the control he exerted over her. It was different than the control that monster in the parking lot had. Even though Jackson scared her, she was never afraid of him. He threatened her father's life but there was something in the cold recesses of his eyes, Lisa could see that he wanted anything but to hurt her. At least before she stabbed him in the throat that is.

And try as she might, Lisa could not get the image of Jackson's eyes out of her head. The way he looked at her in the bathroom when he discovered her scar, like he was angry but more like a jilted lover than a captor. The way his thumb brushed lightly over her skin, his other hand holding her throat firmly, but almost tenderly, possessively. Lisa often wondered about what would have been if she had told him the truth right then and there. And when she did finally tell him she came close, very close, to not following through with it. The compassion in his voice, she had to remind herself of what he had done, what he would continue to do, if she didn't follow through. Still, if the fasten seatbelts light had not come on when it did, distracting Jackson's eyes, Lisa was unsure if she would have done what she did if she had to look at his eyes for even a second longer. Not with the concern filling his eyes to bursting reminding her of charming Jackson.

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Mandy noticed that Lisa seemed to be having a seriously off day. First the mints, then later she had knocked over a postcard stand in the gift shop. When Mandy got some coffee she saw Lisa lift a canister of sugar, tip it to pour into her cup, and left it there. As the steaming brown liquid began to overflow Mandy had to tilt Lisa's hand back. At the questioning look Lisa gave her Mandy pointed to the cup. Lisa's only response had been to smile and say something to the effect of 'spacing out there for a minute'.

All in all, Lisa seemed jumpy, nervous, and very much distracted. But the two had managed to sit through her half-year review without incident. Mandy had 'come a long way in such a short time', was 'highly respected by fellow employees', and was considered 'a truly valued employee'. She was 'always kind and courteous' and received many guest compliments on the comment cards.

Toward the end of her shift, Mandy had to ask Lisa what was going on with her.

"It's nothing Mandy," Lisa told her. It didn't pass by Mandy that Lisa wasn't looking at her when she said this.

"Lisa, come on. Something's wrong, I know it, I can feel it," Mandy pleaded with the slightly shorter woman. "I know we've only known each other half a year, but you can tell me. Maybe I can help."

"Mandy…it's not…" Lisa stumbled.

"What is it Lisa?"

"I know we've only known one another for six months, but I don't want you to think that I don't value your friendship," Lisa began as she laid a hand on Mandy's arm. "In fact, it's quite the opposite. You've become one of my closest friends. Besides Cynthia you are probably my closest friend."

"Then please, as a close friend, tell me what's going on," Mandy returned. "I don't mean to pry. Normally, I wouldn't but you really seem like you need to talk to someone. Believe me, I know how unhealthy it is to hold things in."

"Okay," Lisa conceded, swallowing thickly. "But not here. Let's go to my office.

Once inside her office, Lisa laid down the story of that fateful red eye flight. She told Mandy everything, right down to the ice coffee down her shirt and the shape and color of the pen she used to stab Jackson in the throat. Mandy winced and clenched her eyes shut as Lisa told her about that part. Mandy listened patiently, adding an 'oh my' and a 'wow' and other such things where appropriate.

"And that's what it was, all day, that was bothering you," Mandy concluded. "But why today?"

"It happened, all of that happened two years ago today…May 9, 2005," Lisa answered softly. Her eyes were tearing up. Seeing this pulled at Mandy's heartstrings. Something inside her was slowly breaking as she watched a single tear make its solitary trek down Lisa's cheek. That thing was indelibly changing Mandy with every single second that ticked by at a snail's pace.

"Oh…the guy in the suit! Thin guy, dark suit, blue eyes…no wonder you've had a rough day. Such a blatant reminder on the anniversary day so soon after your shift started," Mandy rushed. After a moment, she tilted her head and put a finger to her lips.

"Mandy?" Lisa questioned. Mandy got up, practically jumped, from her seat.

"I think…no, I know that I've just had a brilliant idea," Mandy pounded the palm of her left hand with her right fist. She leaned over and placed both hands flat on top of Lisa's desk, a mischievous grin decorating her face. "You're here till five…I'm gonna call up the red headed fairy and we are gonna take you out for a night on the town!"

"Oh no. No," Lisa began to refuse.

"No, no ifs, ands, or buts about it, we are taking you out tonight. And I promise, no iced coffee or bay breezes or even sea breezes tonight!"

Lisa laughed and shook her head slightly. Mandy wasted no time and produced a small flip phone from her hip pocket and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?" Came a tired voice.

"Hey fae-child. Watcha doin'?" Mandy asked.

"A.C.? Is that you?" Cynthia's voice brightened.

"Yeah, hang on a sec," Miss Crestwood pressed a button on the phone pad and spoke out loud.

"Cyn…can you hear me?"

"Yeah I can hear you."

"Say hi to Lisa," Mandy told the girl.

"Am I on speakerphone?" Lisa stifled a giggle. Mandy rolled her eyes. Cynthia could be a real spaz sometimes.

"No, Lisa and I are pressed ear to ear listening to you…of course you're on speakerphone!"

"Hi Lisa!" Cynthia said loudly, ignoring Mandy's sarcasm. Lisa merely laughed softly.

"Hi Cynthia," she responded.

"Listen up fae-child," Mandy began. "Lisa has been having a somewhat…rough day. So I was thinking that it would be a really good idea for us to take her out tonight. Just the three of us. What d'ya think?"

"Well, I did plan on sitting on my couch watching 28 Days Later again while shoving massive amounts of popcorn down my throat and washing it down with loads of Cherry Coke," Cynthia teased. "But I guess I could go out with you two instead."

"I'm so glad you could drop such _important_ plans for little old us," Mandy retorted.

"Oh, you know I always have time for the little people," was Cynthia's jovial reply. "Shall we say eight o'clock at my place?"

"Sure…Lisa?" Mandy looked in Lisa's direction.

"Yeah, that'll be fine," Lisa answered.

"Great, then it's a plan. See you tonight Fae-child," Mandy said.

"Okay, bye A.C. Bye Lisa!"

"Bye Cynthia," Lisa spoke loudly. With that, Mandy closed the phone.

"28 Days Later?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," Lisa smiled. "Cynthia has always had a thing for movies like that. You know, zombie, vampire, werewolf, living dead type of movies." Lisa shook her head.

"Oh my God," Mandy sighed. But somewhere in the back of her mind she thought about that movie. The actor guy who played Jim seemed familiar to her somehow, she just couldn't figure out why.

"_Oh well. I've probably seen him in some other films but never connected it,"_ Mandy thought dismissively. Little did she know that as Lisa rubbed the back of her neck that she was thinking the exact same thing.


	4. The Truth Behind the Lens

Wow! I can't believe it took me this long to put out this chapter. I had it handwritten in my notebook for ages but never got around to typing it out. Jackson shows up in this chapter but he's sort of a background character in this scene. And I introduce yet another character to the plot, one Tina Woods. Who is she? And just what is her connection to Jackson? You'll just have to read to find out. And just a heads up...Tina is probably the last new major character in this story. I still have a few minor characters to introduce but no one who will be around for more than a chapter or two or as part of childhood flashback chapters. And Jackson and Sanders' boss Carter will show up again eventually.

And I can't forget to thank WHITE ANGELS WINGS for the emails she sent that helped prod me into actually sitting down and typing out this chapter sooner. Please review!

**Chapter 4: The Truth Behind the Lens**

"Hey Carl," the black-haired woman greeted the night shift security guard. He was a slightly balding, somewhat overweight, dark-skinned man of nearly sixty.

"Good evening, Miss Woods," he replied gently over the top of his newspaper. "It's a bit late for you, isn't it?"

"A bit, a few of my cases ran over today and I've got one more case to get to before I call it a night," the woman opened a file. "One…Mr. Rippner…Jackson Rippner, room 310."

"Ah, him," Carl put down his paper.

"Sumpthin I should know sug?" Tina Woods questioned. Her southern accent, usually very mild, broke through extremely heavy from curiosity. She fingered the corner of the white lab coat she wore over her street clothes, a simple black not too low-cut shirt and dark red cargo capri pants. Dark red socks and black All Stars completed the outfit.

"Nothing in particular…Keeps to himself mostly, doesn't talk, of course that's probably where you come in…"

"Probably," Tina smiled. She was the current speech therapist assigned to the prison hospital.

"But those eyes…" Carl shivered.

"What about his eyes?"

"They're…cold, but hot at the same time. Like freezing to death on the surface of the sun. Most of the time he just stares off, but when he fixes his stare on you…it's creepy."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tina closed the file. Her eyes wandered to the small, barred window opposite Carl's security desk. The wind was blowing fiercely and thrashed the branches of the trees in the distance about wildly. Tina could barely make out the outlines of the trees as heavy rain pounded down in a torrential descent. It pounded on the roof in a harsh yet oddly melodic sort of way.

Tina Woods enjoyed the rain. While others were resigning themselves to warm blankets and hot beverages she felt more alive than ever, despite the aches and pains the rain brought, and in the abysmal mid-May heat wave Miami had recently been through, the cold rains were a welcome respite.

"Tina, my dear," a slightly tall, lean man of late thirties had spoken very close to her ear, effectively breaking her out of self-induced trance.

"Oh, hello Andrew," Tina half smiled. The man had made no attempt whatsoever to cover up his affection for Tina in the entire six months she had known him. The fact that he was married did not hinder his actions in the least. Tina felt sorry for the poor soul of a woman that had to call herself his wife.

"What keeps you here so late?" Andrew asked slyly.

"My cases ran over. I've got one more left before I can leave for the night," Tina replied.

"Yeah…So who's the lucky inmate?"

"Rippner," Carl answered for her.

"Oh, the stiff," Andrew joked. "The guy hasn't responded to any of his former speech therapists and he can barely pull himself into his wheelchair long enough to use the can."

"So I've heard," Tina responded with distaste. Not at Jackson's abilities but at Andrew's crass language and his disregard for Rippner's current physical state. "But I've been told I'm good at cracking the hard nuts."

"So I've heard," Andrew chuckled. "Got nothing to do for a while, want some company?"

"No, that won't be necessary," Tina replied quickly. She abhorred the man before her. He reminded her of less than honorable men she'd known in the past. Part of her hoped he would forget the protocol involved in a therapist meeting a new patient for the first time. A security officer needed to accompany her to the room and stay within earshot for the whole session. But as fate would have it Andrew recalled the procedure.

"Come on Teen," Andrew cooed. "You know one of us has got to go with you. Unless you would rather put it off till tomorrow."

"No!" Tina shouted a bit too loud and a bit too fast. "No, I'd rather just get it out of the way today, tonight that is. I've got a full day tomorrow," she said more calmly. With the conditions outside, tonight would work just perfectly.

"Then it's settled…I'll go with you," Andrew said cheerfully.

"No, I think I'll accompany Miss Woods," Carl uttered as he lifted himself from his chair. He eyed Tina pointedly.

"Thank you Carl, but I think I'd rather have Andrew accompany me," Tina replied. Carl looked her in the eye.

"You sure about that, young miss?" Carl leaned over the desk and placed a hand on Tina's arm. She merely nodded.

"Yes," she answered as she placed her hand over his. Her back was to Andrew who didn't hear when she whispered to Carl, "I'm sure, old man."

Carl nodded his head in silent reply before she turned around to face Andrew.

"Alright," she forced herself to smile. "Lead the way…room 310 please."

Halfway to Rippner's room Andrew began to lay it on thick.

"So, Teen…that accent of yours…where are you from exactly?"

"I'm originally from Oklahoma. But my paw n I moved round a lot when I was a youngin'," she answered.

"And how is it that you're expected to teach people to talk when you've got that accent?"

"Oh, hun, it ain't hard to talk 'normal'." Tina stopped walking and took a deep breath. "Hello, I am from Oklahoma, but my father and I moved around a lot when I was younger," she stated with no trace of her accent whatsoever.

"Hot damn!" Andrew exclaimed. "Beautiful and smart, that's quite a combination."

"I'm not beautiful," Tina genuinely blushed as she pushed a wayward lock of hair from her face.

"You kiddin' me!? With that black hair and those eyes of yours. They're almost violet, just like Elizabeth Taylor."

"Well, aren't you just a little sweet talker," Tina smiled though on the inside she could have thrown up.

"Tina…could I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Just how old are you?"

"Now didn't I already answer that question?" Tina said with a scowl.

"No, you avoided answering last time. I believe you just left it hanging in the air when one of the gals guessed you to be twenty three. I think you said that it was a good guess," Andrew said with raised eyebrow.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to ask a lady how old she is?" Tina asked with mock indignation.

"I…I didn't mean to come off that way," Andrew stammered. Tina chuckled.

"It's okay…I'm actually thirty years old," she replied truthfully. She felt no need to lie to the man. If things went down the way she wanted tonight then he wouldn't be enjoying the information for that much longer.

"I don't believe it!" Andrew shouted. "I wouldn't have said anything over twenty five! There's no way, just no way you could be that old."

"It's true," she responded with a shrug of her shoulder.

The odd duo reached the elevator. There was another at the other end of the hallway that led to the basement and the roof. Andrew used his key to operate the elevator. Thankfully he didn't say anything else the rest of the way to Rippner's room. Tina prayed that Andrew would not be a problem tonight. He could be a real pain and possibly ruin all of her meticulous planning if she was not careful.

"Here we are, room 310," Andrew announced as he unlocked the door. After he took a look into the room he let Tina enter first.

"Hello Mr. Rippner," Tina said cheerfully. Jackson turned his gaze on the two of them and after giving Andrew a once over he simply stared at the woman.

"They tell me you still have trouble taking. Is that true?" Jackson silently nodded his head in response. "Well…we'll just have to do somethin' bout that, now won't we?" Tina beamed.

"Now Rippner, you aren't going to be trouble for the lady…you are going to behave yourself around Miss Woods, aren't you?" Andrew more demanded than asked. Jackson reached over to a side table by his bed and grabbed a notepad and a red crayon. He wrote for a second or two then held the notepad up for Andrew to see. In capital letters the note read…

**FUCK YOU!**

That along with a little smiley face drawn underneath. Tina laughed heartily while Andrew only glowered at Jackson. Jackson smiled brightly and regarded Tina with a raised eyebrow.

"A red crayon?" Tina asked when she had regained herself. "What's all that about?" She snickered.

"He's quite capable with sharp objects. He's not allowed a pen or even a pencil," Andrew answered still glowering.

"Well," Tina's laughter tapered off as she approached Jackson. "It would seem your sense of humor's intact." She leaned over and laid a hand on Jackson's shoulder.

Jackson smirked back at the young woman but the smirk froze and faded slightly as he sat up straighter and gazed at her. Noticing his reaction Tina stood up abruptly and quickly pulled some hair from behind her ear and smoothed it along the side of her face.

From outside could be heard loud thunderclaps. The rain continued to pound relentlessly against the roof. Tina couldn't have asked for a better night. Seeing no reason to postpone the inevitable, Tina shivered almost violently.

"What's wrong darlin'?" Andrew asked the young woman.

"It's…it's nothing," Tina stammered crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing the backs of her arms.

"Come on…it is definitely something. You can tell me," Andrew cooed as he smoothed one hand over Tina's lower back.

"It…it's the storm…'n this room is so small 'n there's no window even…I'd just feel better if we could maybe go into a different room…a bigger room with windows," Tina's voice cracked slightly at the end. "Maybe the physical therapy room on the fourth floor?" The forth floor contained the physical therapy room, the recreation room, an employee lounge, the old operating room that was rarely utilized now, and most of the offices used by the doctors and nurses.

"Oh, hun…you scared of the storm? Well, I don't see why we can't move to more spacious accommodations. As long as someone behaves themselves," Andrew uttered with a hint of malice in his voice as he eyed Jackson.

"He'll behave," Tina said almost fearfully as another clap of thunder sounded outside. "Please…You'll behave yourself…won't you, Jackie-boy?" She asked breathily, a pleading look in her eyes as she laid a hand on Jackson's lower leg. She was shocked to find that, although he was thin, there seemed to be a bit more muscle to him then his previously described condition would have suggested. She knew he couldn't possibly be as infirm as he led everyone to believe he was.

As she took in her assessment of him Jackson had reached for his trusty notepad and crayon again. He scribbled furiously for a few moments then showed Tina the note as he shook her hand off.

I'll behave but

**DO NOT**

**CALL ME **

**JACKIE-BOY!!**

"Fair enough," she replied in a small voice. "What d'ya say, Andrew?"

"I say let's go," he answered. He used his walkie-talkie to tell Carl about the change of location.

"Noted…a little strange but noted," Carl's voice came over the device loud enough to be heard by all.

Andrew then unceremoniously kicked Jackson's wheelchair toward the side of the bed. Jackson glared menacingly at the despised security guard as he lowered his bed and reached down to secure the wheel locks in place.

"Need some help with that honey?" Tina asked as she reached down. Rippner only held his hand up and shook his head at the young woman. Though the effort seemed to drain him of his energy Jackson smiled as he huffed and panted in his wheelchair. A light sweat had broken out across his pale forehead. Combine the devilishly handsome smile and amazing blue eyes the breath hitched in Tina's throat. She laid a hand over Jackson's on the brake handle and smiled warmly at him.

"No, please, allow me," she insisted. Jackson made a sound like he was clearing his throat.

"Okay," he whispered softly. Tina grinned lightly as she stood. She then stepped behind the chair, coming around the other side and bending to release the second wheel's brake. She glanced up to see Andrew currently occupied with the contents of a supply cart in the corridor. The door to the room was wide open.

Tina calculated the time it would take to wheel Jackson to the elevator, the time for the elevator to take them to the forth floor and how long it would take to do what needed to be done in the physical therapy room. She figured the whole night's events to take approximately the next hour and half, perhaps hour and forty-five minutes. She would have to do something she abhorred doing in her line of work. She'd have to cut corners. But given the current weather conditions and the less than skeleton crew night shift she would be able to get away with it, provided she was able to get past Andrew. She smiled as she wheeled Jackson out of the room and even granted Andrew the pleasure of a radiant grin as she walked pasted him. It felt good to get one more job out of the way.

As they waited for the elevator, Tina knew what had to be done. She laid a hand on Andrew's shoulder and lifted her left foot to adjust her sock. Before her foot touched back down to the floor, however, she lost her balance and fell into Andrew. He easily caught her.

"Thank you…and sorry 'bout that," she said in a soft voice as she smiled at the taller man.

"Anytime," he replied smoothly.

As the elevator doors opened Andrew lifted his hand in signal to let her in first.

"Such a gentleman," Tina cooed.

"It's not so hard when there's such a beautiful lady around," he returned. Tina averted her gaze. When turned away she rolled her eyes but when she looked back at him her cheeks were flushed and a smile adorned her lips. Andrew was eating it up. Tina wondered what kind of idiot he was to think that after six months of ignoring and avoiding that she would be interested in him now.

Once inside the physical therapy room Tina parked Jackson in front of a large desk a few yards from the door. She pulled out a file and started thumbing through the pages.

"I just have to make sure I fill out…Oops!" Tina gasped as the folder fell from her hands and the pages cascaded around her feet.

"Allow me," Andrew said slyly as she bent down to pick up the loose sheets. Tina saw her opportunity and moved in to strike. She stepped up to within inches of Andrew's crouched form and removed her jacket. She pulled at the front of her cap sleeved shirt to reveal the top of the lace of her bra.

"See somthin' ya like?" She asked in a sultry voice. Andrew swallowed hard.

"Yeah, I do," he said as he stood and closed the distance between himself and Tina. He grabbed her and leaned in to kiss her. She turned her head and instead he started grazing on her neck. She looked over at Jackson who turned away from watching them and eyed the door as though gauging his chances of escape while they were otherwise occupied.

"Wait," Tina breathed. She didn't want Jackson ruining tonight's plans either. "What about Rippner?"

"He can't even get up from that chair…he can watch if he wants," Andrew uttered smugly as he continued his assault on Tina's body. She pushed him back and made him sit on the corner of the desk.

"I'll take care of it," she kissed her index finger and touched it to the tip of his nose. She then walked over to Jackson's wheelchair. Her back was to Andrew as she leaned close to Jackson. She smiled at him as she pushed aside a wayward lock hair from over his left eye, tucking it behind his ear, her thumb brushing across his cheekbone.

"Don't worry, I'll make this quite painless," Tina whispered to Jackson, her southern accent completely gone as she removed the contact lens from her right eye revealing deep chocolate brown.

"Brenna?" Jackson uttered quietly, his artic ice blue eyes wide.

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Author's Note: Kind of a bad spot to leave off on, I know, but it had to be done. The next chapter was originally supposed to be part of this chapter but both parts ended up being too long to put together. I'm still tweaking the next part so it may be a bit before I post it. In it we'll dive back into Jackson and Anna's childhood dealing with the first steps that led to later career choices for our blue-eyed manager. Please Review, even if it's only to say that you hate this story. It's below freezing where I am right now so the flames will help keep me warm:)


	5. Emerging From the Cocoon

Wow! I didn't think it was going to take me this long to finish this chapter. I had it done about a week ago but I wasn't really satisfied with it, so I tweaked some things around and this is what I got. I'm still not 100 happy with it but it's better than what it was. In this chapter we go back into Anna and Jackson's childhood.

I make mention of the cities of East Chicago and Hammond, Indiana. This area of Indiana is where I'm from, so it's sort of a little shout-out to my home town. I also mention a place called John's Hot Dogs and Woodmar Mall. These two places no longer exist but they were there in the time this chapter takes place which is January 1988.

To all my readers, please review. It's always nice to know that someone is reading this.

**Chapter Five: Emerging From the Cocoon**

"Come on Princess," the boy teased. He pushed AnnaBella Rippner into the chain link fence outside the schoolyard. "Let her try it on."

"If you think I'm letting your flea-bitten whore of a girlfriend wear my necklace you're outta your god-damned mind!" Anna replied as she clutched the silver heart necklace in her fist. Edward doted on her tremendously and, as with this boy, Anna was constantly bullied on for being a 'rich little prissy-miss'.

"You got quite a mouth on you for a ten year old," the fourteen year old boy uttered as he grabbed Anna's arm. She was actually eleven but the world knew her as only ten years old.

"Fuck you, asshole!" Anna yelled as she struggled from his grip. She wasn't even able to get two steps away before the boy grabbed her, spun her around and slapped her mouth.

Stars exploded in Anna's eyes as he back handed her across the face. She fell to her knees as she heard the shrill laughter of the boy's girlfriend, a trickle of blood flowed down from her busted lip. She felt a yank on her neck as the piece of jewelry was ripped away.

"Here ya go sweetheart…think of it as an early Valentine's present," he said as he handed over Anna's necklace to his girlfriend. Anna breathed in the harsh, bitter cold mid-January Chicago air and made a leap for the necklace only to have the boy grab a fistful of her hair and pull her backwards away from the other girl. Pain seared across her scalp from the force of the pull.

"Now whaddya think you're doin'?" The boy sneered as he pulled Anna's hair even further.

"Getting my necklace back from that disease addled slut you call a girlfriend," Anna shot back despite the pain in her lip. She saw the boy's fist rise to strike her and she closed her very blue eyes to brace for the impact. It never came.

She fell slightly forward as her hair was released. She recovered and opened her eyes to find Jackson holding the boy by the throat. Even though her busted lip was now painfully throbbing, Anna smiled.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jackson asked the boy. His voice was dead calm but his eyes blazed with unbridled fury as he stared down the much bigger boy.

"Get the…the h-hell…off of m-me!" The boy choked out as he struggled in Jackson's grip. Jackson squeezed harder. The boy fell to his knees. Jackson gave the boy one last glare before head butting him square on the forehead. Jackson let him fall unceremoniously into a crumpled heap on the ground. He then turned to the girl who began to back away as he approached her. She turned to run but Jackson was on her in a heartbeat, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her hard enough that she fell to the ground. She gasped as Jackson roughly grabbed her wrist and took the necklace from her hand.

Jackson turned to face Anna, a light breeze ruffling his short hair. The menace in his artic blue eyes faded quickly as he took in her injuries. Although he was only thirteen years old, Jackson was a force to be reckoned with. His pale, gaunt form belied his true strength. He reached a hand out for Anna, his icy stare replaced by fathoms deep warmth. He fixed the necklace back around her neck and used his sleeve to wipe away the blood that trickled from her lip before placing an arm around her shoulders and ushering her in the direction of home.

Halfway home Anna noticed that Jackson was shivering. His thin jacket was apparently no match for the bitter cold. For what seemed the millionth time Anna cursed Edward's lack of concern for the well being of his son. She stopped walking causing Jackson to stop as well. She proceeded to remove her scarf and gloves and began to wrap the scarf around Jackson's neck.

"No, don't," Jackson protested. "It's far too cold out here."

"Which is exactly why you need these more than I do," Anna replied. "Hands please."

"Anna, no," Jackson objected as he began to remove the scarf.

"If you take off that scarf I'm taking off my coat!" Anna shot back. She unzipped and began to slide her coat off her shoulders.

"Alright, alright! I'll keep it on, just put your coat back on," Jackson relented winding the article back around his neck and face.

"Good…hands please," Anna smiled. She pulled the gloves onto Jackson's outstretched hands. The smile on her lips abruptly faded before she hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," came her muffled voice. Jackson brought his arms around her and held her close. Suddenly, he pulled back and grabbed her hand.

"Come on," he said. Instead of turning down the block leading home Jackson dragged Anna to the nearest bus stop.

"Where are we going?" Anna asked.

"You'll see," Jackson replied. "There's someone I want you to meet."

One of the good things about Chicago is that no matter where you are there's always a way to get around the city, provided you have a little pocket money. Anna and Jackson would often go on little trips when Edward was out of town. And with Carol now in the rest home where she could be properly monitored in her declining state of health the two would sneak off more often. Most times the two would stay in the city and go to the museums or Navy Pier or just walk down the Magnificent Mile. Sometimes they'd go on the South Shore train out of the city to a little city in Indiana called East Chicago to the section of the city known as the Harbor and eat at John's Hot Dogs, a place that had, in Jackson's opinion, the best chili dogs in the world. There was also a small shopping mall, Woodmar Mall, down the street from the station about a mile in the city of Hammond. On occasion the two would go to the Stardust Bowling Alley in Hammond as well. Sometimes they'd go to other cities off the South Shore Line. They were two children who nearly never knew what it meant to be bored.

A short El ride and a bus later found Anna and Jackson outside a little out of the way gym. Jackson pulled Anna inside. A few of the men said hello to Jackson as he passed by them. Jackson nodded to each in turn and took Anna to the back up a flight of stairs to a door. He knocked twice. The door opened to reveal a large black man. He stared down at Jackson and Anna for a moment before smiling at them. He ruffled Jackson's hair before allowing them to enter the room.

"Hey Little Rip…How's it going?"

"It's going alright, Higgins. Ed's out of town so I can't complain," Jackson replied.

"This young lady your girlfriend?" Higgins asked as he turned his gaze to Anna.

"No, she's my siste…" Jackson began to answer but Anna cut him off.

"Anna," she replied firmly. Higgins extended his hand for her to shake.

"Well, Anna…pleasure to meet you," he replied with a firm shake of her hand.

"Jackie-boy…is that you?" A man of about fifty asked from the back of the room as he stood from the table. The other five men around him stood and walked out the door. Jackson walked up to the man and shook his hand.

"Uncle Nick, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Jackson told the man as he motioned to Anna to come closer. "This is Anna…my sister."

"Aw, this is the legendary Anna, is it? My gracious, what has happened to you child?" Uncle Nick said as he took Anna's face in his hands and turned it slightly to examine her bruised cheek and lip. "Eddie didn't do this to her, did he?"

"No, no he didn't but that is why I brought her here," Jackson explained. "She needs some…training up. She gets into a lot of scraps at school, mostly because she's so young for the seventh grade, but she doesn't fight back. I'll be moving onto high school in the fall so they'll be no one to protect her."

"It must run in the family," Nick responded. "You're only thirteen right…wait, I mean just turned thirteen, wasn't it just your birthday?"

"Yes sir, two weeks ago…January 3rd," Jackson answered.

"I can't believe it! First birthday I gotta remember in 1988 and it completely skipped my mind. I'll tell ya what…you come by the restaurant tonight and I'll have them cook you up something special. Bring your sister along too."

"Sure thing Uncle Nick. But about Anna…" Jackson trailed off.

"Oh, right. She needs to learn how to defend herself, is that right? Why don't you just do it? You're more than capable of showing her a thing or two."

"To do that I'd have to able to hit her, knock her around…I can't do that, not to her," Jackson answered swiping a wayward lock of hair from her face, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone.

"I see," the older man said as he crouched down to Anna's level. She was a mere four feet eight inches to his nearly six foot frame. "Well, take off your coat so I can properly look at you."

Anna looked at Jackson. He nodded his head.

"It's okay Anna. You can trust Uncle Nick," he assured her. She did as he asked and removed her coat and her sweater. In her jeans and tee shirt the man looked her over. He ran his hands down her back and across her shoulders.

"Make a muscle, sweetie," Nick told her as he squeezed her bicep. She obliged and did so again when he took hold of her other arm. "You're left handed, aren't you?"

"How'd you know that?" She asked with wide eyes.

"You don't have much muscle to you but your left arm is a little bit more built," Nick explained. "Shoulders are a bit scrawny."

"What do you think?" Jackson asked.

"How old are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm ten years old. I'll be eleven in April," she replied softly.

Nick merely looked her in the eye for a moment before saying, "Of course you are. Well, with how young she still is I'd say she's not beyond help. When can you come in to work out…of course you'll be up here not down on the floor with the regulars."

"Well…it'll have to be when Dad's not here or else I'll have to come up with some excuse as to why I'm not home right after school," she said facing Jackson.

"Yeah, I don't think he'd want his 'precious little girl' doing something as primitive as learning to fight," Jackson replied.

"Higgins! Come here a sec," Nick shouted across the room. Higgins moved across the room especially light on his feet considering his size.

"Yeah Nicky," he answered.

"Do you think you could make time two, three times a week to help our little miss here learn to throw fists?"

Higgins looked Anna over and nodded his head.

"Yeah, I think I could make the time. Maybe Little C could come over and spar with her when she's ready," he told Nick.

"You'll be in good hands, Annie," Nick patted her on the shoulder. "Higgins here was a prize fighter in his younger days."

"Really?" Anna asked, awed.

"Sure was, but I gave it up when I had my son, found more stable employment," Higgins responded as he led Anna into the next room. Through the doorway she looked back to see Jackson talking briefly with Nick before coming into the room behind her. Nick followed behind Jackson.

"Hey, I gotta go. I'll be back soon."

"Jackson…" Anna said, concern entering her voice. She knew why Jackson had to leave but she said nothing further.

"It'll be okay," Jackson assured her. "It's safe here. You'll be okay."

"Of course you'll be safe here, Young Miss," Higgins assured her. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

"I'll be back soon," Jackson said as he pushed a wayward lock of hair from Anna's eye, tucking it behind her ear and brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. He left from the room with not another word to her. She watched him go in silence. She glanced over to Nick who eyed her curiously before taking his leave as well.

"Alright Anna," Higgins said a little loudly to get her attention. "The first thing I want you to learn is how to defend yourself."

"I thought that's why I was here," Anna returned, confused.

"No…I guess I didn't say it right…anyone can throw a punch or a kick, but to be good, to win, you have to know how to avoid the other person's hits. And you have to learn to take the ones you can't avoid…moving just enough so it hits you somewhere you can deal with them," Higgins clarified. "After you learn that, build up a little speed and muscle then I'll teach you to throws hits of your own."

"Okay then…let's start now," Anna told the man, a look of determination beginning to shine in her blue eyes.

* * *

With the excuse of volunteering for Student Council three times a week Anna began her training under the expert tutelage of Higgins with Uncle Nick occasionally checking up on her progress. Monday, Tuesday and Thursday every week from four o'clock to six o'clock, no exceptions found Anna working and sweating, doing everything from running to weight lifting. Higgins also began teaching Anna some martial arts moves ranging from kicks and punches to throwing and blocking techniques. But Anna's schoolwork always came first. Uncle Nick, whose title of Uncle was honorary for he bore no relation to Jackson and Anna and had many acquaintances who called him Uncle, demanded that she not neglect her schoolwork. When asked why he told Anna that he never even finished high school and that it was his life's one regret. 

About two months later Anna was beginning to spar with Higgins' son, Little C. He put her in her place on more than a few occasions. By facing an opponent Higgins taught her the value of letting her anger lead her in a fight and also its downfalls.

"Anger can lend you unparalleled strength," he advised. "But it also demands you to sacrifice a great amount of control and planning. It causes you to only see your next move and not be able to plan out any sort of strategy. If you're losing badly and see no other option, anger can be a great help, but rely on it entirely and you'll rarely come out victorious."

"So is fighting with anger an advantage or a disadvantage?" She asked breathily as she moved in for a punch to L.C.'s ribcage.

"Depending on the situation…it can be both. If you're lucky enough to get in a finishing blow anger can be a tremendous advantage. But you're fast and skilled enough to not have to rely on it. You work better when you're thinking clearly," Higgins answered.

"He's right," Uncle Nick said from ringside. "You think quickly on your feet. I've never seen anyone be able to alter their plan of attack while under fire as fast as you can, with the possible exception of Jackie-boy here."

Jackson smiled as he looked up from his studies. He glanced at Anna.

"I don't know about that," he said as he buried his nose back in his book.

"Don't let him fool you Annie," Nick called out. "He's probably stronger than you and Junior there combined."

"I can vouch for that," L.C. replied. "Last time I fought against him I got my ass handed to me."

"Junior! Language!" Higgins admonished.

"It's okay, old man…I've heard worse," Anna said before she ducked out of the way of L.C.'s punch and leg swiped him causing him to fall flat on his back.

"Not…fair," he panted out. "I…I-I was…dis-…tracted."

"Distraction happens when it's the real deal," she replied wiping the sweat from her forehead. "You have to deal with it just as surely as you have to deal with your opponent's blows."

Higgins, Nick and Jackson all laughed as L.C.'s head fell back on the mat.

* * *

One afternoon not long after Anna asked Nick what would be considered a rather peculiar question from a normal child. But Anna was far from a normal child.

"Uncle Nick…are you a wise guy?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"Just…things. Meetings with groups of men behind closed doors, Jackson doing runs for you to some of the locals, metal plated door, bullet proof glass, the locked door leading to the basement. These things just make me wonder is all. It's okay if you are, I don't mind. After all, my old man is a gun for hire."

"I've always said you a very smart and perceptive girl," Nick responded. "Don't you have birthday coming up soon?"

"Yeah…on April 11th I'll be eleven…why?" Anna asked.

"Can I ask you a question? Why do you lie about how old you are?" Nick asked as he looked Anna straight in the eyes. "Why do you wear those colored lenses?"

"I don't wear colored lenses," Anna replied quickly, obviously lying.

"Yes you do," Nick replied. "And I've known from the first day I met you that you were lying about how old you are." Anna was frozen in place at this revelation. "Don't look so panic stricken, I know you probably have a good reason for these deceptions. I didn't ask you for the truth sooner because I wanted you to know that you could trust me."

"That's a tall order you ask for Uncle Nick," Anna uttered softly.

"What? Wanting the truth or wanting your trust?"

"Both," Anna replied truthfully. "I've never trusted anyone but Jackson."

"You know, I've never lied to you Annie. My philosophy is that lying just doesn't suit me. It doesn't serve me well. You lie, and then you have to remember the lie and who you told it to, who knows the truth…It's just a bad idea all around. So to answer your question…yes, I am a wise guy. In the basement is another training area, a gun range and a weapons training area…swords, throwing weapons, martial arts sort of things. Now it's your turn. Let's just start with your age and go from there," Nick said with a pat on her shoulder.

"I'm already eleven years old. My birthday is actually in September, on the fourteenth. I lie because Edward told me to lie," Anna said, her eyes downcast.

"Your father told you to lie?"

"No, Edward told me to lie. He's not my real father. And this," Anna said as she pulled one of the lenses from her eye, "is not my real eye color." She looked up at the man and knew he was seeing the true color of her eyes, deep chocolate brown.

In the next hour Anna laid out the story of how she came to be part of the Rippner family, of how Edward found her, of why she had to make the world believe that she was seven months younger than she actually was, why she had to wear the colored lenses, everything.

"You poor child," Nick said as he embraced the girl. "What a horrible burden to place upon the shoulders of one so young. You've been through so much in your short years."

"Trust me, they didn't feel short at all," she half laughed. One single tear escaped from the girl's left eye. Later, she would remember it as the second to the last time she ever cried.

"I bet they didn't," Nick joined her strained laughter. He wiped the tear away with his thumb. "Okay, first things first, I don't want you wearing these things anymore while you're here," he said taking the lens case from her hands and placing it on the desk in front of them. He waited while she removed the lens from her other eye. "That's much better. Next, April 11th means nothing here. September 14th will be the day of celebration for your birthday. And Jackson calls you something, I believe it's when he thinks nobody else is listening…maybe we should start calling you that too…"

"NO!" Anna nearly yelled at the older man. "No…That's Jackson's name for me. When I first came to the Rippner house, he refused to call me AnnaBella…I didn't want him calling me that either, so he named me Brenna. He only calls me Anna when Edward's around."

"So what're we supposed to call you?" Nick asked the girl. She placed a finger on her chin and pondered his question for a moment.

"You could still call me Anna or Annie, and Higgins calls me Young Miss or Little Miss…but if you guys wanted something else to call me you could call me Kiora. It means almost the same thing as Brenna."

"Kiora…I like it!" Uncle Nick smiled. The girl had to admit for an old guy Uncle Nick was a pretty good looking man.

"Hey, Uncle Nick?"

"Yeah Kia?"

"How about you show me what's in the basement, now that I know what the deal is," the girl said with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

By April's end, the unnamed girl with many names had proved to be quite proficient with a number of different arms but none so much as throwing daggers and mid caliber handguns. Uncle Nick was extremely impressed with her innate skills. After hitting ten straight bull's-eye kill shots at the maximum distance the basement range offered Uncle Nick took the girl aside.

"Wow Kiora, I've never seen such a natural shot as you. If you weren't so young I'd hire you on the spot as my next hit man…uh, woman."

"You're just saying that to be nice. I bet Jackson's a much better shot than me," Anna blushed, still unused to such high praise.

"You kiddin' me? Let me tell you something about Jackson…he can't shoot for shit. If the target's more than ten feet away…it might as well be ten miles away, cuz he won't hit it!" Uncle Nick laughed. "But knives on the other hand…he's quite capable with sharp objects."

"You're so mean sometimes." Anna laughed along with him.

* * *

The second day of May, a Monday afternoon, found Anna walking past the schoolyard alone. Jackson was genuinely sick that day and had stayed home. As she walked she noticed the twin shadows that tailed her as she strutted along. The shadows closed in on her within a few yards.

"Hey bitch," a girl's voice broke out as Anna was pushed in the back. She pivoted out on her left foot and braced herself with her right. She now faced her attackers, the two that had tried to steal her necklace almost four months earlier. The boy bore a jagged scar on his forehead from Jackson's head butt as though it had never properly healed.

"We have unfinished business," the boy sneered. "And I see your guardian angel's not here to interfere this time."

"And what unfinished business would that be?" Anna asked sweetly.

"That necklace is mine," the girl burst out. Anna eyed her surroundings carefully and took a step away from the schoolyard fence.

"Now you give her that necklace or else I'll have to mess up that pretty little face of yours like last time," the boy scoffed as he pounded his fist into his open palm.

"You know what?" Anna asked as she put her backpack on the ground. "If she can take it from me, she can have it."

The girl huffed out a laugh. She charged Anna without a word and threw a fist straight for Anna's face. Anna shifted to one side as she spun around and came full circle and struck the older girl on the back between her shoulder blades with the heel of her hand. The girl fell to the ground gasping for breath.

"I guess you don't really want it then," Anna told the girl. She jumped from the ground and made a leap for Anna. Anna easily blocked her fist and the girl's forward momentum only added to the impact of Anna's fist connecting with her face. She landed hard on her back, blood streaming from her nose.

"You little bitch!" The boy screamed as he charged for Anna.

The next minute that past seemed to be like slow-motion to Anna. She recognized that the boy was in full anger mode now and knew that if she didn't avoid his hits that it could be disastrous as he had anger's power on his side. She deftly escaped his strikes and even landed a few hits of her own. Anna narrowly avoided a backhanded swing but she felt herself caught up as the girlfriend wrapped her arms around Anna from behind. The boy closed in to attack and Anna lashed out her left leg to kick him but he caught it in midair.

"Gottcha!" He uttered as he gripped her ankle firmly with both hands.

"No you don't," Anna smiled. With how tightly he grabbed her ankle he had played right into Anna's plan. She brought her right leg up and kicked him square in the chest. He released her leg and fell back against the fence, seriously winded.

Anna stumbled forward but remained in the girl's grip. She glanced over her shoulder. The girl had a look of surprise on her face. Anna saw the shoulder of her jacket had blood dripped across it.

"You got blood on my jacket," Anna said in a deathly quiet voice. The girl's face contorted in fear as Anna flung her over her shoulder and she landed flat on her back. As she walked past the girl Anna kicked her in the side. She strode up to the boy as he leaned into the fence holding the links with one hand for support. Anna grabbed a fistful of the boy's hair and yanked him up to face her.

"_You _mess up _my_ pretty little face? I don't think so," Anna uttered venomously just before backhanding him across the cheek. She punched him the stomach. He spat blood on the ground. She pulled him up to face her again. The look of fright that adorned his face nearly made Anna laugh. She grabbed his chin with one hand and used her other hand to smooth the hair back from his forehead. She gently caressed the scar on his forehead. Then she stroked the unblemished skin on the other side of his forehead.

"It doesn't match…I think we need to fix that," she whispered almost affectionately to the boy. His eyes barely had time to contract with fear before Anna head butted him into unconsciousness.

Fifteen minutes later Anna walked into Jackson's bedroom. He turned to face her. His forehead was damp with sweat. He saw the blood on her jacket and began to sit up. She stopped him and made him lay back down.

"Don't worry, it's not my blood," Anna smirked as she swabbed off his forehead with a damp cloth.

"Whose blood is it?" He asked in a raspy voice. Anna smiled.

"Just some local filth with an interest in my necklace."

"Those two? What happened?"

"Well, I still have my necklace…I have blood on my jacket…but I have not a scratch on me…What do you think happened?"

"So your training with Higgins paid off then?"

"I don't think you have anything to worry about in the fall," Anna whispered tenderly.


	6. There Is No Escape

Sorry it took so long for this chapter. I just got so frustrated that this story only has seven reviews for the first five chapters. As I am posting this part chapter five has 68 hits and only one review!

A/N: While working on this chapter I was listening to the album The Silent Force by Within Temptation. If you've never heard it I highly suggest obtaining a copy of it because it is full of songs that just sound so Jackson-like. The title of this chapter is from the lyrics of the song "It's the Fear"; you could sort of say that this song is Brenna's theme song (or AnnaBella's or Kiora's theme, depending on which name you consider to be her real name since, technically, she doesn't have a real name). It fits both her personality and her feelings for Jackson. Basically, the song describes the darkness inside and the fear of letting it out and the fear what that darkness will do once it's out. But if you can't find a copy of the album, I don't think they ever released it in the U.S. and I obtained mine over the internet at a not very reasonable import price, just go to and search for Within Temptation along with Angels, It's the Fear, Aquarius, or Stand My Ground. You should get a ton of hits. If you loved Cillian in Batman Begins as much as I did then you'll love the video that comes up when you search for Crane/Scarecrow It's the Fear.

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Chapter 6: There Is No Escape

The building rocked with the force of an explosion. Carl lowered his newspaper and Susan, the midnight shift head nurse, dropped the cup of coffee she had been carrying to the security desk.

"What the hell…was that lightning!?" Susan yelled.

"No, that sounded like it came from inside the building," Carl replied. "It feels like something exploded."

A minute later the fire alarm went off. Susan raced to Carl's side.

"Were did it come from? Can you tell where it is?" Susan asked the older man. Moments later a voice broke over the intercom, backed up heavily by static.

"Carl…Ca…e've gotta sit…tion up here…please, help...oh Go...elp me please!" It was Tina's voice, frantic and near hysterical.

"Tina! What's happened!? What's wrong!?" Carl practically screamed into the intercom microphone.

"Rippner! He went craz…arted going after me…Andrew tried t…op him…gun went off and hi…cart of…ygen tanks!"

"Did she just say his gunfire hit an oxygen tank?" Susan asked in a deadpan voice.

"Tina, are you alright?" Carl asked frantically." Is there a fire up there?"

"Yes, but…contained in…physical therap…oom. The sprinkle…going off…it's almo…out. Andrew's down…e's hurt re…bad. Please hel…e Carl!"

"I'm on my way Teen, just hold tight! I'm on my way!" Carl responded.

"Isn't there a camera feed up there?" Susan asked. "Can we see what's going on?"

"No, the feed's out on that floor," Carl said as he checked his sidearm. "Management decided it wasn't a priority to fix since there are no patient's rooms there."

"First they short staff us, and then they don't upkeep the security system…typical," Susan snorted. "This is just like my sister and their coffeepots."

She followed Carl to the elevator after barking out orders to the third and second floor nurses to evacuate the patients underneath the physical therapy room to empty rooms in the opposite wing just if case there was any damage to the fourth floor. She and Carl entered the small, rarely used employee elevator in the middle of the hallway. It was tiny, barely big enough for one person and a wheelchair and the overhead lights were burned out. Again, management had yet to send anyone to fix them. Carl had to use his flashlight to see.

The two raced up to the fourth floor. When the doors opened they were greeted with a wet surprise. The sprinkler system was going full blast pouring ice cold water down on them. They saw Tina frantically adhering bandages to a still form on the floor. As Carl approached he recognized the uniform as being Andrew's, minus the jacket. His face was bandaged, only his mouth and right cheek were visible. His right hand lay on his chest and was severely discolored. Tina herself had her right hand roughly wrapped up to her elbow. Her lip was busted and the left side of her face was swollen. Her hair was uneven and Carl realized that one side had been charred shorter.

"Carl! Help me!" Tina screamed before she cringed in pain, fell forward and landed face down in a puddle. Carl rushed to her and pulled her up.

"We need to get them out of here," Carl called out to Susan. "Call the chopper, we gotta get them to Miami General."

"I'm on it," Susan answered as she ran to the emergency phone. A few moments later she rushed to Carl's side just as Tina started to regain consciousness.

"Jackson…went crazy…Andrew went to the restroom…Rippner attacked me…Andrew came back…the gun went off," she panted out.

"Where's Rippner?" Carl asked the barely conscious girl.

"There was a cart of cleaning stuff in there. Andrew pushed Rippner into it as the gun went off. It was right next to the oxygen tanks…he wasn't savable," Tina cringed in pain. "I was thrown back by the blast but I was able to pull Andrew out of there…burned my arm though."

"You did good, Little Miss," Carl soothed Tina. "You did good…everything's gonna be okay…you just relax. I'll take it from here."

Tina grabbed Carl's arm and looked him in the eye.

"Thank you…old man," she breathed out softly.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Put that oxygen mask over her mouth now," the shorter paramedic shouted to Susan.

"His vitals are stable, we gotta move them," the taller medic said after checking Andrew's pulse.

"Her vitals are good too…Let's head out," the shorter man known as Ryans called out as he held a stethoscope up to Tina's chest.

Tina's eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the silver wristwatch. A wave of anger passed through her causing her to shake. She covered the shivering with a sudden fit of cough and Ryans adjusted the level of oxygen that flowed through her mask and told her to try to breathe deeply. Carl laid a hand on Tina's shoulder and looked her in the eye.

"Everything alright there Miss Woods?"

Tina nodded her head but looked at Carl, then pointedly at Ryans, then back to Carl and shook her head so slightly that no one but the elder man saw. Carl looked up at the man that was helping push Andrew's gurney toward the elevator, then fiddled with the bandages around Tina's left wrist. He placed her hand across her midsection and patted it gently.

"Come on…Let's get them out," the taller paramedic, Hayes, motioned for them to push Tina's gurney into the elevator.

"Tina, you're gonna be just fine, honey," Susan told the young woman.

Susan and Carl both helped the two paramedics push the two gurneys holding Andrew and Tina to the elevator that lead to the roof past the four firefighters who had arrived to check on the fire.

"No doubt…the gunshot ignited the oxygen causing the fire, which was further exacerbated by the cleaning chemicals," Carl heard one of the firefighters say as they passed up the physical therapy room.

"There doesn't appear to be any structural damages…it appears the sprinkler system took care of it soon enough," another said.

"Not soon enough for this poor bastard though," another said as he looked at the body bag which held the remains of Jackson Rippner.

Once they reached the roof it appeared as though the storm was worse than before. Buckets of rain not only fell down on them, the wind whipped the rain around stinging their faces. The floor was a mess of leaves and twigs that had been tossed around by the storm. The four had a lot of trouble negotiating the debris and the storm as they pushed the two gurneys to the waiting helicopter.

"We'll put him in first," Hayes told the trio as they approached the helicopter. He opened the door and motioned for Ryans to position Andrew's gurney. He and Carl lifted it into the hold while Susan waited with Tina. When it was Tina's turn Susan squeezed her hand and watched as the men loaded her in as well.

"Thanks for you help, sir," Ryans told Carl as Hayes got into the chopper. Carl shook the younger man's hand.

"It was nice knowing you," Carl said with no mirth in his voice. Ryans eyed the older man as he walked to the safe distance marker with Susan.

The two watched as the helicopter lifted off into the stormy night sky. It hung suspended in the air for a moment before turning on the spot and whizzing away into the murky sky. When they could no longer see the helicopter Susan and Carl turned and quickly made their way back into the dry, warm comfort of the building. Susan found them some dry scrubs to wear while their own drenched clothes dried next to the heating vent in the employee locker room.

It seemed to take forever when the fire department questioned them about the events of the night, and then they answered pretty much the same questions for the police officers, the chief of staff, and the insurance agent. Surprisingly, the damage wasn't severe and was nothing a new section of dry wall on one wall, a good cleaning, and a couple of coats of paint couldn't fix.

"You think they'll be okay?" Susan asked once they were alone again. Carl looked up from his cup of coffee.

"Yeah, Tina's always been a tough girl…There's not much in this world she couldn't handle," Carl responded. He said nothing further and Susan was left to wonder how he could say that Tina had 'always' been a tough girl when he had only known her for barely six months.

"You guys better hang on," the pilot said. "It's gonna be a bumpy ride and it's only gonna get worse."

"You mean this isn't the worst of it?!" Hayes yelled.

As it was the helicopter rocked back and forth in the stormy sky. Tina chanced a glance up as Hayes worked on securing a venous drip into Andrew's arm. In the present conditions this was proving to be a difficult task. Ryans was busy with the syringe he was filling. Tina couldn't see exactly what he was filling it with but she wasn't willing to risk the chance that it could be something unpleasant. Luckily Hayes had given up with the venous line.

"Ugh, I just can't get it! You do it, Ryans," he uttered miserably. Ryans put down the syringe and nodded to his companion. Hayes then rounded on Tina and took her pulse.

"And how are you doing Miss Woods? Are you still with us?" He asked her warmly. Under the beating of the chopper blades she could barely hear him. She looked deep into his green eyes and instantly knew she shouldn't have. He was an innocent and didn't deserve the fate that was swiftly encroaching upon him. He turned to check on Ryans' progress with Andrew and Tina made her move. She quickly unfastened the straps holding her in place. She bolted up, kneeling on her gurney and grabbed Hayes around the neck with one arm. With her free hand she pulled off his headset and tossed it to the floor.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his ear before deftly breaking his neck. He was dead before he hit the floor. She zeroed in on Ryans as she felt the bandages around her left wrist. She pulled Carl's present out of the wrappings, an ebony inlaid switchblade. Ryans faltered for the briefest of moments but it was enough for Tina to take the advantage. She launched herself in his direction as he reached into his waistband and drew out a semi-automatic handgun and pointed it directly at her chest.

"I don't like this. We should have heard something by now," Susan commented for the fourth time in twenty minutes. She was nervously treading the same patch of floor in front of Carl's desk that she had been pacing for the last thirty minutes. "Maybe we should call them to see what's going on?"

"We just gotta hold on, Susan," Carl told her softly. "When they have something solid they'll call us. Tina's probably just waiting until they have Andrew stabilized and sorted out and then I'm sure she'll call us."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just so worried about her. She's a nice girl. She didn't deserve this," Susan said sadly.

"She'll be fine," Carl said solidly.

Fifteen minutes more passed, and then the silence was shattered by the shrill ring of the phone. Carl and Susan merely looked at phone and on the forth ring Susan picked it up. She uttered a few words into the receiver, she nodded with barely an utterance, and didn't even say good bye when she hung the phone up.

"Was that them?" Carl asked. When Susan didn't answer he touched her arm. She swayed dangerously on her feet and Carl had to grip her shoulder to keep her from going down. He guided her to a chair and made her sit down.

"Susan? What happened?" Carl asked the now hollow eyed woman.

"They didn't make it," she whispered.

"What do you mean they didn't make it?"

Susan looked up at Carl. Tears were welling up in her eyes.

"The chopper…" she choked out in a strangled voice. "The chopper never made it to Miami General."

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As always please review. I do get so discouraged when I see on my stats page that people are reading but no one comments. Good or bad leave your reviews. And if anyone has any questions please feel free to e-mail me. I'll answer as long as the answers don't spoil too much where I'm going with this story.

Hope to hear from all of you soon,

RavensWood


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